Your Guardian Angel
by emunstableSigil
Summary: There were two Potter children. One bore the curse scar, the other did not. One was exulted as the Boy-Who-Lived, the other was the Boy-Who-Was-Forgotten. One grew up in the Potter household, the other ran away. But all it takes to re-write the great tapestry of destiny is one, with or without the other. The Triwizard Tournament is upon Hogwarts... and they will meet again.
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

**A/N: I decided to try my hand at the whole 'Harry is a bodyguard' trope. It will be Harry/Fleur. It is my first story so bear with me as I figure out which tropes to avoid and how to develop my own style.**

 **I don't own any elements of the Harry Potter universe. I'm not going to make any profit from this story either.**

 _Prologue_

The night was still in Scotland. A mighty stone castle sat high and proud on its hillock, presiding over the surrounding lowlands like an ancient stone king. The Black Lake was a glossy sheet of polished obsidian, its quiet surface undisturbed even by a single ripple. Some distance away from the castle, a lonely lantern wheezed its light onto a set of iron gates, illuminating the letters 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'.

The air fractured, and with a sharp cracking sound; a man appeared in front of the gate. The lantern threw its light onto his face, revealing a sharp, strong-looking man. He straightened himself, dusting off imaginary dirt from his silk robes, and checked an odd-looking device hanging from his belt. The man looked around and narrowed his eyes. He was meeting someone who was clearly late.

Soft, slow wingbeats ruffled the quiet, like the night itself was breathing. A crow, midnight black, alighted on the lantern, and cawed once. The man shot a sharp look at the bird.

"I am alone," the man said impatiently. The crow shot the man a beady look, before looking around, seemingly scanning the area for anyone else. Apparently satisfied, it cawed again. A figure suddenly appeared before the man, soft and silent as smoke. The figure was smaller than the man, wearing an odd black cloak with a high collar and small red clouds printed on it. A large, conical, straw hat defeated the lantern's efforts to illuminate the face of the figure.

The first man addressed the newcomer in a carefully neutral tone, "You are smaller than the stories make you out to be." The newcomer said nothing and merely took off his hat. Without its large brim, he seemed even shorter. The lantern's light threw into relief his facial features. They were young, but not boyish.

"My name is Augustin Delacour. I am the one who wishes to hire you," Augustin continued, undeterred by the silence. He paused, and looked up at the stone castle above them, impassively watching their meeting. He looked back at the young man. "This is the school where my daughter will be attending the Triwizard Tournament. I want you to protect her," he said.

The young man dipped his head slightly and spoke in a surprisingly deep voice, "and why does she need to be protected?"

Augustin began to pace agitatedly. "My daughter is very strong of will. She is adamant on proving herself to be more than, how you say, 'skin deep'. But she is not aware of the dangers she faces. I am a prominent member of the French Magical Parliament, but I am married to a half-blood Veela you see."

The young man raised his eyebrow. "And the problem is…?"

Augustin did not answer straight away, instead choosing to observe the vault of stars above them. "I love my family dearly," he said, "She is a caring mother and loving wife. But the Parliament is filled with bigots, who despise her and see her as little more than some animal to be caught and tamed. They see my daughters the same way."

The young man prompted him for more information. "Have they ever tried anything…physical…to demonstrate this hate?"

Augustin exhaled explosively. "No, they have limited themselves to politicking against what they call 'half-breeds' in the Parliament" he said distastefully.

The young man nodded his head in appreciation. "Ah, but with your daughter being here at Hogwarts, you fear that they might try something more aggressive with her being further away from your protection"

Augustin nodded once.

"And that is why you want me…to protect her you say? Interesting…"

The Frenchman shot him a baleful look. "I take my family's safety very seriously. My contact recommended you, but I want to see for myself that you are up to this task."

The young man held up his hands, "How do you know that I will even accept this mission?"

Augustin retorted almost instantly, "Well you are here are you not? Like I said, I take my family's safety very seriously and am willing to pay handsomely for the peace of mind an _adequate_ bodyguard can provide me."

The young man dropped his hands slowly, dangerously. He did not miss the way the Frenchman emphasised the word 'adequate'. The young man smiled. "I am interested in accepting this mission. How can I prove my…talents…to you?"

Augustin responded by drawing his wand with his right hand and settling into a duelling stance. "A duel, I think, should be indicator enough. After all, if you cannot defeat even a small politician such as myself, how can you protect my daughter?"

The young man's smile grew a little. He hardly thought the man before him was 'small'. His stance was solid, and he looked to be fast without being weighed down by bulk.

"We will begin after the third count," Augustin said, tightening his grip on his wand. "One…two… _stupefy_ "

The red beam of light rocketed out of his wand. The young man's smile turned distinctly amused at the dirty tactics the Frenchman employed. _To be fair though,_ he thought to himself as he tilted his body to the side, _if I fell for that then I deserve to lose the mission_. The jet of light passed by his body harmlessly.

" _Expelliarmus-stupefy-incarcerous!"_ Augustin's wand blurred back and forth in the weak light, hissing and spitting light from its tip. The young man dodged the first two simply by swaying on the spot, but the third spell looked as if it would hit its mark. It was right where Augustin guessed he would dodge, and Augustin was a little disappointed at the lack of skill his daughter's supposed bodyguard would have.

Then his eyes widened as the young man simply vanished and the next thing Augustin felt was a knife being wedged in his right armpit. He dropped his wand in shock.

"Normally, that would go in your neck," a voice behind him said pleasantly. The next sentence was decidedly less pleasant. " _Monsieur Delacour_ , I do not mess around. I assure you." The knife was yanked out painfully, and Augustin collapsed.

But he did not expect the young man to catch him before he fell, whispering a quick phrase as he did. The wound in his side healed instantly, as if he was never stabbed with a knife by a young boy maybe half his age.

"Does that satisfy you?"

Augustin licked his lips shakily. "I-I do not expect that you will need to use such force for this contract."

The young man did not miss a beat. " _Monsieur_ , when you hire me for a protection mission, I will use whatever force necessary to remove the threat." He spread his arms wide, "and what other force is there that removes a threat more easily than _absolutely lethal force_ …?"

The young man paused, adding more quietly, " _Monsieur_ , I respect the lengths to which you go to protect the ones you love. It is a noble sentiment. Should you be satisfied with my skills, I would give my life to protect your daughter and complete this mission."

Augustin felt a sense of relief. He felt shaken at the display of violence; but he knew he was making the right choice by entrusting his daughter's safety to this young man.

"Yes. I am satisfied"

The young man smiled again.


	2. Chapter 2 - Meeting the parents

**A/N: Fair warning that this story will probably borrow elements from the Naruto universe. I am a fan of both universes and have decided to craft this fiction in that direction. I aim not to make any references to the Naruto universe obvious and intrusive. Rather, I want them to be small nods to that universe.**

The night was fresh and clean in Southern France. A large estate fanned out across lush grassy lawns and water tinkled merrily in a fountain. The path from the gate to the front door of the Delacour estate was illuminated pleasantly with a soft, warm glow. The distant crash of waves placed Augustin at ease, as they always did. He breathed deeply, and the ocean breathed with him, blowing a warm breeze to ruffle the lawns affectionately. Augustin walked slowly up the path, his companion walking silently beside him.

Their cloaks fluttered slightly in the breeze. "This weather is so much more pleasant than Scotland," Augustin said, trying to make small talk. His companion, it seemed, was not interested in responding, simply continuing to walk in silence.

Augustin sighed. There was no use beating around the bush. A white elephant in any room always commands the centre of attention. "Do you think this is the right choice?" Augustin wondered aloud. His companion snaked an arm through Augustin's, and turned to look at her husband.

"Our daughter has inherited your stubbornness _mon amour_. We must support her decision. She is of age after all."

Augustin turned to look at his wife. She looked beautiful in the soft twilight of evening. The breeze had parted a lock of hair from the rest of her silvery blonde curtain. Augustin tucked it back with the others and planted a kiss on the top of her forehead.

"You look beautiful Alaina" Augustin said genuinely. His was rewarded with a light smack. "My good fellow, what is the matter with you?" Alaina asked playfully. Augustin changed his body language subtly, putting a fraction more distance between them. Alaina noticed.

"Augustin?" she asked, concern marring her beautiful features. It was not a petulant demand, but rather a question asked out of loving concern. He really was a lucky man.

"Ahh…I fear for Fleur's safety. England is known for its bigotry and my opponents in the Parliament have been extremely agitated of late. I believe they may try something on English soil." Augustin explained.

"The English ministry has promised adequate security for this event Augustin." Alaina explained. She put a delicate hand on his chest, stopping him. "What is really happening _ma cheri_?"

Augustin fidgeted. "There is a new bill being run in Parliament, which discriminates against half-creatures. I am the rally point of many who oppose the bill. They seek to destroy me." Augustin's features hardened. "But I will not back down. The English ministry is incompetent Alaina." Augustin looked deep into his wife's eyes. "I have taken other measures to ensure our Fleur's safety."

His wife was silent, prompting him with searching eyes to continue. Augustin was about to reply when a crow suddenly cawed nearby.

In a flash, Alaina whipped out her wand and cast a hex at the bird. The bird exploded in a puff of black feathers.

"Agustin, how did that bird manage to get past our wards?" Alaina asked in alarm.

Another crow cackled madly from nearby. Alaina trained her wand on it but Augustin grabbed her arm. "Wait," he said softly.

More crows flew down, staining the greenness of the lawn with their dark bodies. Their cawing was a symphony of harshness, fracturing the peace and serenity in an instant. Impossibly, they flew together, merging in a cacophony of black feathers and grating screeching and suddenly Alaina and Augustin were not alone.

Augustin licked his lips nervously.

"Alaina, this is Corbeaux. I have hired him to watch over Fleur this year."

The young man in front of them smiled widely.

* * *

Blue eyes stared intensely at themselves in the mirror. Platinum blonde hair adorned a determined face as Fleur Delacour mentally prepared herself. She ran over the list of arguments and reasons why she should be allowed to participate in the Tournament. She held her ace; that she was of legal age and that her parents could not control her, but she was loathe to use it. She loved her parents dearly.

She went down to dinner, mentally preparing for a screaming match. The meal was eaten in relative silence before they retired to the sitting room. Gabrielle excused herself, begging leave to complete a summer homework assignment. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Fleur took a deep breath.

"Papa, I have decided that-"

Augustin cut her off with a smile. "Fleur, your mother and I have decided to support you in your decision to participate in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament."

Fleur squealed. She jumped up and threw her arms around her father, then her mother, smiling in elation. She knew it was still a long road ahead to actually compete in the tournament, but nonetheless this was the first step in the right direction.

She sobered somewhat when her father raised a hand, calling for Fleur to refocus.

"But I want you to understand that it is not like in France. The English have their fair share of bigots. And there have been some issues going in the Parliament, so our condition is that you bring someone with you." Fleur did not like where this was going. "Fleur, please meet Corbeaux."

The doors opened by silent command and Corbeaux moved into the room. Fleur looked at him disdainfully. He was a young man, perhaps a few years younger than her, with vivid green eyes. His hair was a jet black mess, like a crow's nest, and he was wearing an oddly decorated cloak.

Fleur then proceeded to ignore him completely, instead rounding on her father, firing at him in rapid French. Augustin responded calmly and firmly, also in French.

' _How rude,'_ Corbeaux thought to himself amusedly.

The conversation lasted a full five minutes before Augustin leaned back in his chair, indicating to Fleur that the discussion was over. Fleur looked slightly put out, but the earlier joy of being allowed to participate was still there.

Fleur looked back at Corbeaux again, this time more calculated. She shot a line of French at him. Corbeaux turned his head towards Augustin expectantly. Alaina giggled into her hand at his confusion. Augustin sent a warning look at Fleur.

"Very well," Fleur said exasperatedly. "Come, Corbeaux, I will give you a tour of our estate." Without waiting for a response, she turned curtly and left the room, expecting Corbeaux to follow.

"I guess that is my cue," Corbeaux said with a slight smile. "I beg your leave, Lord and Lady Delacour." Corbeaux bowed deeply to Augustin first, and then to Alaina.

Alaina shooed him away with a graceful wave of her hand, impressed at his civility despite herself. _'The boy has manners'_ she mused. Alaina turned once more to her husband. She cocked her head in the direction Corbeaux had just left and smiled. Augustin breathed a sigh of relief. _'At least Alaina approves of my choice. I can only hope Fleur will also…in time.'_

* * *

"Enough!" James Potter called out across the duelling hall. The two combatants lowered their wands, one panting heavily, the other smirking victoriously.

"Daniel, your wand movements are still too sloppy!" James said. The current Head of the Potter family strode to his panting son, clapping a stern hand on his shoulder. Daniel shrugged it off, frustrated.

"I know dad!" Daniel retorted. He swung his arm around in its socket, trying to ease the joint.

His duelling opponent chimed in. "If you knew you wouldn't have gotten your arse kicked so soundly pup."

"Shove off Sirius" Daniel growled. He was too slow to dodge the stinging hex that followed. Rubbing his shoulder, Daniel turned to his father. "Can't we take a break from all this, Dad? It's the weekend for Merlin's sake!"

Daniel looked around at the empty duelling hall. Sure enough, no-one else was there save for a lonely girl, dozing lightly on the observatory benches.

"Even Hermione's asleep!" Daniel exclaimed.

James' features softened, and his stern hand relaxed. "Look, Daniel. Whether you realise it or not, people look up to you. You are the Boy-Who-Lived after all and I'm very proud of you."

Daniel puffed his chest out a bit, a faint grin adorning his youthful cheeks.

"But being the Boy-Who-Lived means you have to be the absolute best you can be. You need to be strong for your little sister."

Daniel deflated a little, but perked up when Sirius suggested they go to Madame Rosmerta's for a quick butterbeer before bed.

As they walked back to Hogwarts along the secret passage from the Hogsmeade pub, Sirius hiccupping slightly beside them, Daniel reflected on his father's words. Emma, his younger sister, had been wandering wide-eyed around the magical castle in her first week as a Firstie. And with prats like Malfoy in the same castle as his baby little sister, Daniel resolved to watch out for her. ' _To protect her, always'_ Daniel thought firmly.

"Wha' you thinkin 'bout Daniel?" Hermione asked sleepily beside him. Daniel glanced at his best friend, dragging her feet tiredly, and her droopy eyes struggling to stay open. He smiled softly.

"Nothing Hermione. Don't worry about me" he said.

"Mm-hmm" she murmured back.

Daniel stifled a yawn of his own. Tomorrow at least was Saturday. Hopefully, Lily would let him sleep in a little.

* * *

" _Lily, come quick!" James hollered. Lily rushed into the living room where James was, only to see a look of amazement and pride on his face. He was cradling their youngest, Daniel, in his strong arms._

" _Lily, check out his eyes!" James said excitedly. Lily looked onto her child and gasped. Daniel's eyes were a deep, rich crimson._

 _Lily's hands flew to her mouth. "Oculus Caeli" she breathed. "The Potter Eyes of Heaven" James finished for her._

 _A moment later, Daniel's eyes returned to their normal hazel colour._

" _How is this possible James? I thought family bloodline abilities were only passed down in purebloods?" Lily asked._

" _They come from pureblood families, Lily" James corrected. "Half-bloods can inherit them too, but only if their father or mother was a pureblood."_

 _Lily frowned. "I don't understand."_

" _A select few pureblood families pass down a magical ability, unique to that family. That's the main reason for calling them 'Most Ancient and Noble.' For example, the Malfoy family is famous for their ability to lace their speech with magic, allowing them to more easily manipulate weak-willed people." James explained. "That's why purebloods have a superiority complex and look down upon half-bloods. It's rare for half-bloods to have a unique ability."_

" _But Daniel is a half-blood. How is it that he can possess your family's ability?"_

 _James ran a hand through his messy hair. "If a pureblood marries a half-blood, there is a chance that their immediate kids can inherit the ability. But our grandkids sure as hell won't have it…probably"_

" _So by marrying me, the Potter family ability will die out?" Lily trembled as she thought of the significance. Because James married her, an entire family ability would probably die out…_

" _Hey," James gently took Lily's chin and looked deep into her eyes. For a moment, James' eyes flickered red. "Totally worth it," James said with a carefree grin._

 _Lily smiled gratefully at her husband. They turned back to their giggling, happy child, fawning over him. "What colour is Daddy's magical core Danny?" James cooed. "Is it a red core or a blue one or a green one…?" Danny grabbed James' hand and gurgled happily._

 _A pair of gleaming red eyes peered at the scene from a distance. James' gold magical core was pulsating slightly; Lily's was a calm ocean blue. The red irises dimmed and vivid green was restored to young Harry's eyes._

" _You've got a gold one Dad." Harry whispered._

* * *

I shake my head to clear the memory and refocus on the wand pointed directly at my heart.

"I am waiting Monsieur Corbeaux" Fleur asked, a tinge of impatience colouring her voice. I smile disarmingly at her. The motion is practiced…a mechanical reflex developed out of necessity. She colours slightly. I cock my head apologetically.

"What was the question?"

Her nostrils flare and she flips her hair in annoyance. The action is rather fetching. She is not used to being ignored.

"My father claims you are a long lost cousin," she said, clearly not believing that particular lie. "But I am not stupid. Much of his family rejected him-"

I twitch involuntarily.

"-when he married Mama. He gave up the family blood ability and they were not happy with that. You cannot be a cousin. Who are you really?"

Her aim is steady, but her grip is weak and loose. I start to make a reply, but focus my attention on a spot just above her shoulder. She frowns imperceptibly and falls for the bait. Her eyes dart quickly to where I appeared to be looking.

"What are you looking at Monsieur Corbeaux…" she trails off. Nothing is there, save the décor of the entrance hall where she has led me. She refocusses her attention on me.

I twirl her wand in my hand, feeling its weight in my palm. It's an elegant little thing, with fine balance and flexibility. But clearly not battle material.

"How did you-" she starts.

I offer the wand back, handle first.

"A charming wand for a charming lady" I quip, my disarming smile back in full force.

She huffs amusedly and reclaims her wand. "I see you have mastered the art of talking without actually saying anything." Her eyes turn predatory, self-assured. _She has an ace to get the upper hand_ , I think, slightly wary. Then her allure hits me full force and I am reminded that true beauty still exists in this harsh and ugly world. She is perfection incarnate; her shapely body and inviting features in absolute harmony with everything I ever considered true and good and beautiful…

But years of blood, filth and destruction quickly assert themselves and my Occlumency shields are as firmly in place as my false, doey-eyed, slack-jawed expression. I flick a tendril of magic towards my eyes and for only the briefest of moments, my pupils become blood red. _Ahh…a Veela then._

"It's true, I am not your cousin" I ramble. Fleur quirks her lips, triumph dancing in her smouldering blue eyes. She smiles radiantly at me, inviting me to continue.

"I'm your father."

I allow myself a rare moment to appreciate the delicious expression on her face.

* * *

Augustin stared into the dying fire, occasionally swirling his amber drink. "My wife, Alaina, has apparently taken a liking to you." He brought the crystal glass to his lips and tilted his head back, letting out an appreciative sigh.

Corbeaux was standing to attention a little to the side of his armchair. "You are a lucky man, Monsieur." He said politely.

Augustin chuckled and drained his glass. "Next week, our family will be in England to watch the Quidditch World Cup."

Corbeaux narrowed his eyes. "This _expedition_ was never mentioned in my contract Monsieur Delacour," he said with a barely noticeable edge to it.

Augustin hastily waved his arms to correct himself, "No, no, I did not mean to say your protective services are needed when we watch the match. I merely wished to inform you of our whereabouts. How was your tour of our estate?" he asked, eagerly changing the subject.

Corbeaux smiled widely. "It is just as well Monsieur Delacour that I will be at the World Cup regardless. A prior contract you see." He bowed slightly. "And your estate is truly magnificent."

The fire crackling was the only sound in the room for a few moments. Then Augustin asked the question that had been burning in his mind. He looked directly at the young boy.

"How?" he asked bluntly. "How did you become like this? Most boys your age would be prancing around, chasing skirts and the like. And yet here you are, and I have seen first-hand your prowess." Augustin absently rubbed the spot just under his right armpit, where he had been stabbed by his young guest.

Corbeuax was silent, his head bowed slightly, and Augustin feared he had crossed a line. Finally, the young man looked up and Augustin nearly dropped his glass in shock. The boy's eyes changed in front of him. His irises became blood red and his pupils shrunk to the size of pinholes. They split into three black dots in each eye, eerily swirling around his red eyes until they settled, perfectly equidistant from each other.

"That is for me to know, Monsieur Delacour," he spoke softly, lethally. "And you to _never_ find out." And he smiled.


	3. Chapter 3 - Quidditch World Cup

**A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you very much for your support, it is really encouraging. I'm currently on university holidays, so I managed to squeeze out this chapter before I go back to uni. Please enjoy!**

* * *

The camping grounds were abuzz with activity. People milled outside their tents, chatting animatedly with their neighbours about Ireland's recent win while children frolicked around on toy broomsticks, catching imaginary snitches and quaffles. The stadium presided above them in the background, glittering magnificently; a wall of shimmering lights.

A tall man, clad in the blood-red robes of the English Aurors, detached himself from the campsite and made his way towards the nearby woods. He walked briskly, carrying himself with purpose and confidence. He entered into a small clearing and spotted a young man in a high collared-cloak leaning against a great tree trunk. A slight breeze fluttered, making the red clouds on his cloak float in the wind. His pose was casual, but veiled a hidden lethality. The Auror approached him.

"Thank you for coming Mr. Crow," he said shortly. "The World Cup Finals appear to have gone off without a hitch this time. The junior Aurors can handle the drunken revellers. It seems tonight's security operation was a success."

Corbeaux bowed slightly. "And the terms of my payment…?"

The Auror captain nodded sharply. "Yes, you can collect your payment from Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley at your earliest convenience. Simply state your name to the goblins-"

"The goblins know me quite well," Corbeaux replied with a smile.

"Very good. Consider your contract with us fulfilled and terminated." The Auror extended a hand, which Corbeaux clasped firmly. "Normally, the Ministry would not think to hire externals for a security operation, but the Minister insisted that nothing go wrong. And luckily for us, that was the case."

A terrified scream shot that idea right down, cutting off whatever Corbeaux was going to say next. The Auror captain's eyes widened and he spared a single nod at Corbeaux before dashing out of the clearing towards the source of the scream. More and more people started to scream, panic filling their lungs and terror gripping their voices.

Corbeaux watched the Captain leave. "Hmmph, good to see you too… Father."

There was no emotion, no remnants of the bitter hatred that once surged through him. Long ago, he would have met his father with raw enmity and longed to gouge his eyes out. But feelings were a weakness. Rage and anger were fatal distractions; a misdirected channel that often masqueraded as true power. Corbeaux watched impassively as James Potter left the clearing, barked some orders and called together his Auror squad. _No emotions. No weakness._

He dispelled his glamours and vanished in a cloud of liquid black smoke. Higher up, a tree branch suddenly creaked as Harry Potter appeared on it, perching himself to get a better vantage point.

The Aurors were fighting hard against a sea of black cloaks and silver masks. Their blood-red cloaks swirled around them as they perfectly synchronised attack and defence. It spoke of intense training and hard discipline. But they were hopelessly outnumbered. Eventually, the sheer numbers of the motley Death Eater crew would destroy the Auror force.

Blood red eyes absorbed the scene from the treetop. Harry focussed his attention on one particular individual.

James Potter was leading the charge and he was truly a powerful force to reckon with. Harry knew his father had the Potter Eyes of Heaven and that he was using them to full effect. Spells seemed to disintegrate into harmless tendrils of magic instead of hitting him and Death Eaters would attempt to cast a spell, only to have their wands fizzle uselessly. But he knew his father would tire soon. The Eyes of Heaven placed an enormous strain on one's magical core, and Harry could see his father's gold core spiking erratically. Once that core depleted, the fight would be over. It was disappointing to see that his father had clearly not unlocked the full potential of his bloodline.

Harry folded his arms dispassionately. As far as he was concerned, the Auror Captain himself said his contract was fulfilled and, more importantly, _terminated_. He had no obligation to stay and provide his assistance. If his father was killed, his mother became a widow and his only sibling, his useless brother, became fatherless…well, Harry couldn't care less.

 _No emotion. No weakness._

Harry turned to leave, but his bloodline-enhanced eyes picked up something else. A silvery core, pulsating rapidly, surrounded by several other magical cores emanating ill-intent caught his attention. A flash of silvery-blonde hair, a high-pitched scream…

"… _next week, our family will be in England to watch the Quidditch World Cup…"_

"… _no, no, I did not mean to say your protective services are needed when we watch the match…"_

That silvery-blonde hair belonged to a Delacour. And she was in danger.

Harry considered his options. True, he was not under contract while the Delacours were at the World Cup. But then again, if that core belonged to a one Fleur Delacour and she was killed here, there would be no contract to begin anyway.

His decision made, Harry re-applied his glamours, transforming back into Corbeaux, and sunk into the billowy black cloud that surrounded him.

Not once did Harry even think to help her simply because it was the right thing to do. Not once did he think that there was a beautiful girl needing a handsome young man to save her. He had just accepted the contract, and it would be a shame for it to go to waste.

 _No emotions._

 _No weakness._

* * *

"Well, well, well…look what we have here. What's a pretty lady such as yourself doing out here, all by your lonesome?"

"Stay back!" Fleur ordered, her voice trembling only slightly. She was surrounded, facing off against five men clad in Death Eater garb and fanned out in a semicircle around her. Fleur cursed to herself. In the hopeless confusion and panic, she had been separated from her family. She was a competent and capable witch, but nevertheless, she didn't like the odds.

His voice was twisted and harsh when he spoke. "We won't hurt you baby, why don't you just drop that wand of yours now hmm?"

"I'm warning you!" She felt much less confident than her words suggested.

The leader licked his lips. "Let's have some fun then."

Fleur cast the nastiest hex she knew before he finished his sentence. It missed and she threw up a shield as the men counter-attacked. Fleur dropped the shield briefly and dodged around a tree. The trunk was wide and solid, and served as effective cover.

"Flank her! Set up anti-apparition wards; make sure she doesn't get away! I want more fun tonight!" the leader cackled madly.

Fleur ran, staying low to avoid the jets of light that arced above her. She dodged between the trees, side-stepping the gnarled roots that reached for her ankles. All around her, spells impacted, blasting and fizzling on the bark. She couldn't run forever. Fleur knew she was in trouble.

She stumbled into a small clearing. A wheezing pant and rancid breath was her only warning before she was tackled to the ground. Fleur heard a muffled scream in the distance.

"Ooh I like 'em feisty." Fleur recognised the voice of the leader that was currently pinning her down.

"Get. Off. Me." she growled, bringing her knee up and into his groin. He howled in pain and she used the opportunity to flip him over and scramble to her feet.

"He…hehehe…you'll pay for that bitch."

He stood up slowly. His mask fell off during the scuffle and Fleur could see his face. It looked as though he had run right into a brick wall when he was young; an upturned, bulbous nose, his mouth entirely too small for his face and bulging eyes.

The Death Eater looked around him. "Where the hell have those losers gone…" he muttered to himself. He leered at Fleur's body. "Ah well, more for me then."

Fleur readied her wand as her opponent's started hissing dangerous sparks.

* * *

I moved through the forest silently, stalking my prey. Their movements were as clear as daylight to my all-seeing eyes. They had fanned out, looking for the Delacour girl I was supposed to protect. I worked my way right, following the Death Eater on the furthest flank.

 _Shlick-shlick._

Two knives. Severed artery in his neck. Severed spinal cord. He dropped without a sound. Clean, efficient killing. It's what I do best.

I moved left now. Two more, standing in close proximity to each other. I flicked two knives into each of my hands and hurled all four of them with pinpoint accuracy and ferocious velocity. They cut through the air, whistling merrily as they approached their targets. Two severed arteries. Two severed spinal cords. Two more to go. There was no adrenalin, no fear, no bloodlust. Honed by years of experience and harsh training, I had suppressed everything until all that remained was a deadly instinct.

 _No emotions. No weakness._

I saw the Delacour girl's magical core firing rapidly, engaging with another, more powerful core. _The leader then_. I also spied the last of the underlings approaching from Fleur's blind spot, preparing an ambush. Time to move.

* * *

His perverted little mind was his undoing. Fleur was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling. A quick burst of her Veela power and he paused for a micro-second mid-cast, eyes glazed over in delight. It was all she needed. Fleur's silent stunner took him full in the chest and he collapsed.

Fleur fell on all fours. The fight may not have ended in her favour had it continued much longer. She was exhausted.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

Fleur reacted immediately, flinging herself forward and sprawled onto the ground. With effort, she turned around to see the Death Eater standing behind her. He was staring at his wand blankly, his mouthing moving soundlessly in confusion. Fleur surged forward and let pure instinct take over, snapping off another silent stunner. She gasped in surprise as her spell, instead of connecting with the silvery mask, passed through empty space. The Death Eater had vanished in an instant, revealing a familiar figure with blood red-eyes.

* * *

I can see _everything_. I have mastered my family's bloodline ability. I saw the magic detach from his core, travelling up his arm, shaping itself into what the caster willed it to be. It was a characteristic green tendril of magic, snaking its way through the inside of his arm, about to connect with the Death Eater's wand. _The Killing Curse._

The Potter Eyes of Heaven could do _so much more_ than merely see another person's core. I looked at the green tendril of magic and bent it to my will and it stopped. It never connected with the wand. _'It's true,'_ I mused. _'The Killing Curse cannot be magically blocked once it has been cast. It's a simple matter of making him unable to cast it at all.'_

My two knives enjoyed visiting the Death Eater's body. I quickly spelled one of them into a portkey and dropped him off in the middle of the English Channel. The silvery core in front of me shaped a stunning spell and I watched with mild surprise and amusement as it travelled through the inside of her arm and connected with the caster's wand. _'A silent stunner…not bad Miss Delacour.'_

I poured more magic into my eyes and time seemed to slow. The spell was still coming at me, but lazily now, as if it was moving through tar. I saw the tiny threads of magic which shaped that unique spell, cast by a particular individual at a particular time in the universe. I _looked_ at the spell and I _knew_ its true essence. I was its _master_. Then it was a simple matter of picking apart the threads, one by one, and the spell fizzled harmlessly out of existence.

* * *

Fleur watched, astonished, as her spell seemed to fade out of reality before her eyes. She looked up and saw none other than Corbeaux. But it was his eyes that entranced her. His pupils were the colour of richest crimson, save for three dots that spun mesmerizingly around the periphery of his pupils.

"Are you alright Miss Delacour?"

And then Corbeaux smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that hid an enticing mystery behind it.

Fleur liked mysteries.

* * *

James Potter breathed a sigh of relief as he heard multiple pops behind him. Reinforcements had finally arrived.

"Alright there James?" a familiar voice hollered.

Sirius Black appeared next to James, who was ducking behind a makeshift barricade of transfigured rocks and debris.

"Brought a few of our own as reinforcements."

James glanced at his reinforcements.

"Sirius, why did you only bring the junior female Aurors?" James asked tiredly, as if this was nothing new to him.

Sirius gave him a cheeky smile in return. "You and I both know we don't need them. Mostly to show off really." He sobered up as he regarded the Death Eaters drunkenly jeering at them.

"Get the wounded to St. Mungo's. As soon as the serious cases are gone, set up anti-portkey and anti-apparition wards" James ordered.

"Already done Cap. No one goes in or out, including us. Although, that probably won't matter eh?"

Sirius handed James a Pepper-up Potion. The Potter patriarch downed it in a gulp, and felt a renewed vigour enter his weary limbs. James nodded gratefully at Sirius. "Let's do this."

James' eyes took on a familiar red hue. Beside him, Sirius, head of the Most Ancient and Noble family of Black, readied himself. The shadows around him seemed to take a life of their own, coalescing into a dark shadowy cloud that hovered around him…poised to strike, and full of an eerie malice, as if a dark dragon writhed around Sirius. James drew himself to his full height and vanished the barricade and the fight restarted.

A distance away, the junior rookies watched in awe.

"I heard that those two once single-handedly took out an entire army of Death Eaters by themselves in the first war."

"What do you expect? They're the famous Lords Potter and Black. Just look at them go."

"Is it true that they're unbeatable?"

"Damn Lord Black is hot!"

"You're a professional for Merlin's sakes!"

The Death Eaters that weren't lying on the ground out cold were routed. They stumbled around, spinning stupidly on the spot, not comprehending that they could not Apparate. The Lords Potter and Black, Red Eyes, Black Dragon as they were known, advanced on them, wands at the ready, stunners sparking at the end of their wands. The fight was over. James's eyes returned to their normal hazel colour and Sirius' shadow returned to his feet.

Just before the final volley of stunners from James and Sirius came forth, a new figure appeared amidst the still-standing Death Eaters. He was clad in a high-collared black cloak with a familiar red cloud emblazoned on it and a drawn hood that concealed his face in shadows.

Sirius frowned. "Who the hell is this guy and how did he get through the wards?" he muttered at James.

James was about to reply when he cut himself off. His red eyes widened in disbelief when he saw a pair of blood-red eyes staring intensely at him from beneath the hood.

"Impossible…" James whispered.

The man was too quick to believe, much less see. He flickered, as if both Aurors blinked at the same time, and the remaining Death Eaters simultaneously fell to the ground, blood spurting from their necks. Not stunned, but brutally killed in cold blood.

James readied his wand and Sirius called forth his black shadow.

"Who are you?" James demanded.

Just as James was about to summon the magic to his eyes, the mysterious hooded figure vanished.

* * *

Corbeaux observed the magical cores of James Potter and Sirius Black as they engaged the dwindling numbers of Death Eaters for a moment before turning his full attention to the girl beside him.

"You held your own remarkably well back there," Corbeaux complimented with a smile. "Your silent stunner was particularly impressive, how long have-"

Corbeaux stiffened suddenly. He sensed...

"Corbeaux? What is wrong?" Fleur asked.

Corbeaux didn't reply. The three dots surrounding his red pupils begun to spin madly, faster and faster, until his red pupils were ringed by black. He looked to where he last saw James and Sirius and saw _his_ core. It was not the shining gold core of James Potter, nor the black core of Sirius, but an altogether different core, significantly more powerful and much more dangerous.

"He's here." Fleur heard him whisper.

Corbeaux turned his intense gaze on her and she was sure her knees would have buckled had he not taken her wrist and pulled her close to him.

"We need to leave, now." He said quietly and urgently.

"Who is here? Why do we-" An inky shadow swallowed the last of her sentence and Fleur felt herself being transported; the sound of a crow cawing registered faintly in her head.

The gently breaking waves and the reviving scent of salty ocean spray greeted Fleur. She breathed deeply and sighed in relief. After all the madness at the World Cup, she was back home, on the grassy lawns of their seaside estate.

"Fleur? Fleur!"

"Papa, Mama!"

Fleur ran up the stone pavement and hugged her parents tightly. She swooped down on her little sister Gabrielle and engulfed her too.

"Fleur, what happened? After we separated, we just assumed you would apparate straight here."

"These vile men cornered me Mama." Alaina threw her hand to her mouth in horror.

"I ran, but one of them, the leader I think, caught up with me." Fleur frowned to herself. "What happened to those other men…?" She turned to regard Corbeaux, standing silently to attention in the presence of his employers.

"What did happen to those other men?"

Corbeaux smiled widely. "I was with you the whole time" was his vague and evasive reply.

Fleur recounted the exhausting fight with the Death Eater leader and the part where Corbeaux vanished the final assailant after he failed to cast the Killing Curse at her.

Augustin promptly stuck his hand out towards Corbeaux.

"Thank you, for saving my daughter. Even when you were not under contract."

Corbeaux clasped it firmly. "I did not save her so to speak. Your daughter is to be commended for holding her own so well." He said with a nod in Fleur's direction. She coloured slightly under the praise. Then it suddenly occurred to her.

"Corbeaux, who was there at the World Cup? Why were you so frightened?"

The young man swept an uneasy hand through his hair. It disturbed Augustin to see his normally stoic bodyguard rattled like this.

"My teacher."

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter done! Please kindly drop a review. I appreciate constructive criticism, whether you notice the writing has become sloppier or things are happening too suddenly or whether you want to see more of a particular side of a character. Or even just a short note with some encouragement!**

 **I personally think the whole "helpless female needs rescuing" is overused so I tried to portray Fleur as more of a competent and able witch in this chapter. I mean, she was selected in canon as a Triwizard champion for a reason.**

 **I'm still on uni break so maybe I can get out another chapter soon, but don't expect too much lol.**


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